


Home again.

by Lady_Talla_Doe



Category: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, Stargate Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst and Romance, Civilian Clothes Colonel Young, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Politics, Sad Rush, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, Slow Burn, background canon relationships, background mcshep, no Rush's are physically injured in this fic, so much bedshare trope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/pseuds/Lady_Talla_Doe
Summary: during the crew of Destiny's long sleep, a solution is found on how to get them home. And more importantly, how to return anyone who wishes to.Rush reluctantly returns to an Earth that no longer feels like home.He isn't the only one counting the days until they can return to Destiny.
Relationships: Nicholas Rush/Everett Young
Comments: 31
Kudos: 52





	1. Atlantis

**Author's Note:**

> an au built to shamelessly fulfill one very niche need of mine (pining and bedsharing). most canon relationships continue, although mcshep and jack/daniel as established relationships should be assumed.   
> set 4.5 years post s2, ignoring comic canon.

* * *

* * *

In the end, they didn’t actually gate into Earth – the algorithm McKay had worked out to get them from Destiny back to anywhere close to Earth could only be uploaded to Atlantis’s gate. It had taken time, but the SGC hadn’t wasted the three years Destiny’s stranded crew had spent in stasus.

~*~

Rush hadn’t believed them at first, in fact it had taken McKay coming over to Destiny, and talking him into using the stones to come back and look at the plan himself- even then, there had been doubt. Or perhaps it had simply been fear.

It had stuck with him, the moment when Dr. McKay had stopped mid frantic spiel, and just _looked_ at him. Really looked at Rush.

“You don’t have to stay on Earth. You don’t even need to go _back_ , if you don’t want to.” It was eerie, how being around these people seemed to have grown the cocky, self obsessed man he’d known into someone he almost didn’t recognize. The old McKay never would have caught on. Rush had shifted the feet of his borrowed body, a small female scientist (a strange feeling, but far less distracting then being six inches too tall had been)

“It isn’t that.” He shook his head.

Dr. McKay had cocked his head, watched him in silence – another alarming change, the man was usually, or rather _had been_ , non stop noise- and made a soft _huh._

“It’s two way.”

That had stopped Rush. He kept his eyes down, but had know that every line of his borrowed body showed the fear, the desperation he had felt.

McKay had cleared his throat, awkward, and it had been a reassurance that perhaps as much as things had changed, this aspect hadn’t.

“The- the macro, it works both ways. We can dial back to Destiny. Not often, but- you don’t have to _stay_ here. You can go back. Look-” he shuffled whatever was in his hands, then walked around to Rush’s side of the table, and his familiarity with whoever this was showed when he rested his hand on Rush’s borrowed shoulder, a gesture meant to reassure. McKay glanced at the soldier at the door, then lowered his voice.

“I get it. For a while, about a year, Atlantis was on Earth. And I hated it. I wanted to go back _home_. Even now- If it weren’t for the fact you can’t go through the gate, I wouldn’t be here. I almost never come back to Earth.” Rodney leaned back, dropping his hand, and twisting them in front of himself instead. Vulnerability was a new look on him.

Rush considered his words carefully.

“Atlantis suits you, Dr. McKay. Yes, I want to go back to Destiny. Can you please show me take me through your plan, one more time?”

Rodney had blinked, surprised. Politeness wasn’t something Rush was known for.

But Rodney had given him a _gift_. There was nothing he could do to pay him back for this.

~*~

_One year, four months, and twenty one days later._

Stepping through the event horizon had been the single hardest thing he had ever done. And to show them it was safe, to _apologize_ for everything they had dealt with over the past five years, Rush had volunteered to go first.

A keno, and then him. If it worked, they would be able to see.

It was a _very_ long wait. The gate shut down- something they weren’t entirely sure would happen- and it took nearly fourteen hours for the keno to arrive at Atlantis.

But it did. For obvious reasons, the plan of Rush first had been scrapped- dialing took too much energy, even with the macro. But Rush had still been the first to turn his back on Destiny – his ship, his _home_ , and step through the gate. He couldn’t see their faces, but he knew that it helped.

If he was leaving, it was real.

If he was leaving, they could come back.

It was unspoken, but there.

Many wouldn’t. But some would. They had a life boat now; even those who hadn’t felt the draw of this amazing ship now felt it, bright under their skin. And excitement of being part of something great, something ancient. Maybe seeing the end of it.

Just as he stepped into the event horizon, he had the sudden thought; _would Destiny miss them? Would she be lonely?_

And then he was thrown across the gateroom he had seen only in photos, and hit the floor hard on his side, fetching up against the bottom of a glowing step – his brain was whirling, automatically translating the ancient, a greeting for returning travelers, and Rush barked a laugh, covering his face with his hands before anyone could see the tears prickling his eyes.

His side ached. He’d likely have a sizeable bruise, and he’d barely had time to process where he was before Eli slammed into him, and then they where both scrambling up the steps to get out of the way of everyone else.

“Get some _fucking padding, McKay_ ,” He bellowed, as he staggered to his feet, catching Camile before she could crack her skull open on the steps. Eli helped her up the steps, an impressive black eye already rising – Rush wasn’t sure where he had gotten that- but gear was flying out of the gate, and then people, and Atlantis personnel were scrambling to catch them and pull them out of the way.

Rush helped Camile and Eli up the steps, and then dropped to sit hard on the glowing step, just out of the way, as his hands shook. Chloe and Scott stumbled up the steps, and Chloe looked around; Camile was crying somewhere behind him. A lot of people where crying; this was a happy thing, a home coming.

They were here. Atlantis.

~*~

Later, after everyone had been sorted out, someone came to sit beside Rush. He hadn’t moved, eyes fixed on the gate. It was off. Their way back to Destiny had already been confirmed; they could go back. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave yet.

A hand curled over his shoulder, warm and calloused.

“Rush,” said Col. Young, softly.

He tipped his head slightly, indicating he was listening.

“....you alright?”

Strange. He wouldn’t say there were close; attempted murder tended to strain a working relationship. But they understood each other. Of everyone present, Young could likely guess his emotions better then anyone else.

Rush nodded slowly.

“I’ll be fine, Col.” He lied.


	2. t-shirt and jeans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> even a genius can be distracted by a t-shirt and jeans.

* * *

* * *

They didn’t return to earth, nor would they, not immediately.

There was a big speech planned, but most of Destiny’s small crew was too overwhelmed to hear what was being said. Rush tuned it out, sitting on the stairs with his chin on his hands, while the luckiest members of the crew – those with family with clearance – began to record their tearful video messages to assure their loved ones they were safe. He could hear Camile tell Sharon she loved her, and that she would be home as soon as she could.

The rest of it passed in a haze of colour and sound. He felt numb to it, his skin cold despite the warmth of the Ancient city’s air, and the seemingly endless stream of reassuring shoulder touches, and arm pats that total strangers seemed compelled to give him. Rodney McKay, of all people, gave him a hug.

He coasted through the security briefing, and nodded when it was appropriate, but both Col. Young and Camile, flanking him on either side, could tell his mind wasn’t there. Camile’s hand rested beside his on the table, her arm touching his in the way a cat might sit beside someone to offer comfort. He appreciated it.

Rush’s mind was millions of light-years away, haunting the corridors of Destiny. The dark, empty, desolate corridors.

It was strange, how he was here, surrounded by warmth and life, but he felt an ache to be back with her. How could he sit here with all these happy people, and feel such an empty, hollow sadness at the thought of returning to Earth?

~*~

There was quarantine to go through, before they returned to Earth; _if_ they returned. Some people without strong ties had already expressed a desire to be part of the mission returning through the stargate. Homeworld command had not given any official word on it, one way or another, but as Rush had pointed out, in one of the few times he’d offered an opinion, they knew the ship best. They were qualified before, and remained so now; there was no reason except pettiness to say no.

Pettiness would be enough of a reason to keep him from ever seeing the stars again, let alone returning to Destiny.

With Atlantis’s size, it had been decided to leave the crew of Destiny there for their quarantine, rather than strain the base on Earth. The East wing was farthest from Atlantis’s main population, and only recently restored to full functionality. There was plenty of things left to do, small things that needed repairing; no point wasting all those knowledgeable hands when they could be keeping busy. Most of the crew of the Destiny were civilians, and had both clearance, and expertise to work on Atlantis’s systems.

 _Many hands made for lighter work._ Although, it was nice to have work that wasn’t life-or-death. It had been years since they could indulge in curiosity for curiosity’s sake, and Atlantis was a breath-taking marvel of ancient technology. Rush and his science team passed the first few days in an excited huddle, moving from place to place, comparing Atlantis’s systems to those they remembered from Destiny, with Eli and Chloe tagging along curiously behind them. The two of them didn’t have much experience when it came to the newer versions of Ancient tech, so it was a good teaching exercise – from the way he talked, it sounded like Eli wanted to return to Destiny. Perhaps not immediately, but maybe with the next crew switch over.

He wasn’t certain of Chloe, but she played things a lot closer to the chest, and had more than just herself to think about. But from the way she listened eagerly, Rush figured their was a career waiting for her in Stargate, whatever path she chose.

Military personnel were placed on inactive duty, but no more free to wander then the civilians, although most lacked the technical backgrounds to assist. He would run into them in civilian clothes from time to time, and it was enough to jar him out of the haze he’d been living in.

Well, at least Col. Young in jeans had been.

Rush had turned the corner, preoccupied with his tablet (everyone had been given one, and he’d requested an extra) and glanced up only to freeze, staring wide eyed. Young stopped too, glancing over his own shoulder to see what had startled Rush.

“You okay there, Rush?” He asked, mildly.

Rush realized his error, and nodded hastily, ducking his head. The image of Young in loose blue jeans and a half done up button up with a t-shirt underneath seemed glued to the inside of his eyeballs, like a ghost inside his skull. He blinked, rubbing his face harshly.

“It’s fine, Colonel, it’s nothing. Just startled me.” He sounded tired, even to himself.

“Maybe you should get some rest.” Young suggested lightly.

Maybe he should. Rush glanced at the time on his screen, and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Goodnight, Colonel.”

Colonel Young watched him bustle off, scratching at his head as he decided not to correct him.

“It’s three in the afternoon.” He sighed to himself. Apparently some things didn't change.

~*~

Atlantis’s corridors had a sameness to them, a repetitiveness that lulled the senses. Three days was hardly enough time to learn the layout of the city- all he'd done the first day was eat, shower, and have meetings, and he'd slept the second, althoughthat was the last time he could remember going to sleep. his body felt painfully restless, here on Atlantis. ( He'd looked into a difference of gravity, but they were more or less the same. Camile had brought up the psychological effects of ceiling heights, and it had merit) He wasn’t sure if this was his floor, but with his strong ATA gene, Rush could open most of the doors on the city. It had been amusing, that first day, when Rodney McKay had realized that _Rush_ had it naturally -it hadn’t been a secret, Rush had known before leaving for Icarus, but apparently McKay hadn’t. He'd been downright obnoxious about it, played it up, and found out a few useful things; opening doors and controlling lights was now almost habit. This city was almost too bright, it stung his eyes, but others didn't seem to mind it. Which brought him back to Colonel Young's point- perhaps it wasn't the city, perhaps Rush just needed some sleep.

he arrived at what, at a glance, looked like his door.

The door hissed open, and he found he missed all the extra noises of Destiny. The ocean made up for the missing hiss of the air processors, but the airlocks on Atlantis were much more efficient; they opened with almost no noise, and with that he rarely touched the panels, the crystals didn’t chime for him.

The benefit of _knowing_ what his gene should allow him to do, meant that he didn’t need to manually program his lights. He was tired, so he simply ordered the door open, and walked across the dark room to the bed. As he dragged off his clothes and crawled under the covers, he wondered why it smelled _off_ , but dismissed it as his mind still not used to the different smells of the new city, and firmly pushed the thoughts away.

Within a few breathes, Rush was asleep, curled into blankets that, if he had bothered to turn on the lights, he would have seen were not his own.


	3. almost a dream.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett finds a sleeping Rush in his bed.

* * *

* * *

Everett had been getting a decent amount of sleep each night they’d spent on Atlantis so far; it wasn’t a spectacular amount, but frankly having the weight of responsibility for the lives of nearly eighty stranded people lifted off his shoulders helped.

Not that he could exactly brag. By his count, he was getting about six hours, but it was something.

It left him with energy enough to feel restless – and thanks to the medical staff on the base, he had a new knee brace, and a tentative clear bill to do _light jogs_ to help build up his strength. His knee felt better then it had in ages, although the brace rubbed uncomfortably after too long.

Everett had been of half a mind to go for a run earlier, but he’d come across Chloe and Scott when he’d turned the corner, and Chloe had been overflowing with happiness – there had been a scheduled dial out the day they had arrived, and a follow up to earth, just long enough to get replies to the video messages they’d sent.

Her mother had been in tears, apparently.

They had a late lunch, and he let the two of them fill him in on their plans – Chloe wanted to formalize her role with Homeworld Command, and do some studying of Ancient back on earth. Spend time with her family.

Scott, like most of the military personnel, had leave-time built up, and backpay. They were thinking of buying a house.

Everett smiled, and nodded, congratulating both of them. The hours had flown by; it wasn’t late, but their joy stung at something in his chest that he wasn’t ready to examine just yet. He pushed the feeling away, as deep as he could, so that nothing but his genuine happiness for them showed when he clapped Scott on the shoulder before he left.

“Congratulations. Really, I’m so happy for you both.” He said, and meant it.

For a moment, the warmth of their smiles eased the unnamed ache, and that was enough for him.

~*~

In the end, he ended up running around most of the afternoon, although he didn’t get his actual run until late into the evening. As he jogged to a slow stop in the hall in front of his door, wiping the sweat from his forehead on his shirt, Everett had to admit that full bathrooms _inside_ his room. No tracking through the halls, cold and tired. Truly, Atlantis felt like paradise – everything Rush had been telling him about the Ancients, but actualized. Destiny was impressive, But Atlantis was awe-inspiring.

The door was quiet when it opened for him, with no chime to signal his entry, and stranger still, the lights remained off. But after a long day, and intending only to bathe quickly and sleep, Everett decided to leave it for the morning. Either the problem would resolve its self, or it could be fixed then. He didn’t need some member of the Atlantis staff in his quarters in the middle of the night poking things only to find it was nothing.

He toed his shoes off by the door, his eyes adjusting to the moonlight spilling in through the large windows that let in an view of the expansive ocean- he had felt strange having such large windows, but very little of the city was actually inhabited, and all of Destiny’s crew were in one tower, so there wasn’t anyone to look in his windows.

He walked to the small washroom. It too opened silently, and the lights remained off, but like the main living space, large windows spilled soft moonlight into the blue room. Nothing else seemed to be affected- he waved a hand over the shower sensor, and the water hissed on. Shrugging to himself, Everett stripped out of his sweat soaked shirt as steam filled the air, dropping his dirty clothes carelessly in a pile outside the shower. A small indulgent rebellion against his conscious impulse to keep everything cleaner, neater. He wanted to _enjoy_ this time off he had. Others were doing his laundry for him, he had running hot water, new clothes. Things it had been years since he’d enjoyed. They felt like decadence, after so long, but in reality they were basic accommodations.

The air was warm with the kiss of steam, and it clung to him as he stepped into shower spray. His skin stung from the heat of the water when it first struck him, reddening from the heat, but he relished it, tilting his head into it and sighing at the sensation of the water dripping down over his hair and flooding down his back, a searing elemental touch that he had missed. His lashes clumped together, and Everett rubbed them free, scrapping his wet hair back from his face as the heat drove the tension that lived between his shoulders away. The sound of the water in the moonlit room was soothing, slowing his pulse, until he could breath out slowly.

They were here.

_We’re safe_.

At some point his body would believe his mind.

Soap that wasn’t harsh and didn’t need to be used sparingly was a nice change. He worked it over his skin, bubbles almost soft, lather silken after so many years of harsh home made soap, or bathing in cold streams with handfuls of sand. It simply smelled like mild soap, scentless, but he found he sniffed the bar every time, titillated.

Small things.

He had been provided with shampoo and conditioner, but Everett was in the habit of washing his hair with water, or soap, and he wasn’t of the mind to change it. He vaguely remembered Emily saying something to him once about it being bad for the scalp.

Some people had cut their hair immediately upon being given the opportunity. Everett enjoyed his curls, the way his dry curls kept his earls a lot warmer, hell kept his head warmer. After so many years of wearing his hair short, it was like having a light hat. Destiny was cool, her environmental settings adequate for humans but he still found himself cold when he looked at Park or Chloe running around with bare arms.

Wet, his hair wasn’t much longer. It got in his eyes, hung lanky down his neck.

After a few minutes just standing in the shower, he sighed, and waved his hand over the sensor, shutting it off. The room was still warm, filled with steam – clouds of it whispered across the moonbeams, and slid silently across the strange, beautiful floor.

He stood in the steam, running a thick white towel over his skin, and tried not to enjoy it too much. Just… the little things. Knowing clean clothes waited for him in the morning, and that he didn’t need to shrug into the same filthy clothes the next morning was a special joy. Realizing he hadn’t brought anything to change into, Everett scratched his wet hair, and then shrugged.

_Not like anyone will see_.

The room was cold against his bare skin, but New Lantia wasn’t a cold climate; it felt nice to walk in his own skin and nothing more through his darkened quarters. His bed was tucked away into an alcove, where the moonlight couldn’t reach; the shadows looked deep and inviting. Everett pulled down the edge of the cotton blankets, sliding into the clean sheets, and sank with a sigh into the warmth of the mattress. Exhaustion closed heavy arms around him, and he went easily with it, letting his arms arrange themselves comfortably around the person sleeping closest to the wall, hidden by the darkness.

They mumbled something, and turned towards him in their sleep, pressing their face into the side of Everett’s neck. He snorted at the whisper of long hair, tickling under his nose, and lifted a hand to pet the stray hairs smooth.

When his hand encountered a solid, warm scalp, and soft hair, he froze.

_Oh no._

No, he couldn’t have.

But the man tucked up against him, skin almost as bare as Everett’s, wasn’t a figment of his sleeping mind. Their naked limbs were tangled together under the covers, and Everett was grateful that whoever it was they wore boxers to bed. The worn fabric was soft against his bare leg, the stranger’s thin knee hitched over Everett’s – he was wrapped well against him, pushing into him like he was cold. Which, as he ran his hand over his shoulder blades, Everett wasn’t surprised about; they had all lost weight on Destiny, but the sleeping man was thin as a bird, his skin chilled where they weren’t touching. His feet, where they rubbed against Everett’s, were absolute blocks of ice.

He was awake now, sleep chased away by surprise. Everett fought the urge to curse, trying to carefully untangle himself, but now that he was facing him, his companion was all arms – his thin arms were strong, wound around Everett, and he made a sleepy noise of protest at Everett’s struggles.

After several fruitless minutes, he gave up. Sliding his warm hands soothingly up and down his back until his companion settled back down, Everett considered his options. There were only a few slight, under weight men on Destiny. His best guess wasn’t one he wanted to linger on, but given their conversation earlier, and his nonfictional lights, he could only really conclude one person.

Everett sighed.

It wasn’t like he could go to sleep like this, naked with Rush wrapped around him. Rush had likely slept for nearly as long as he was going to – he’d wake long before Everett would. _Tear off the band aid_. If he got it out of the way, he could still go to sleep and get a full night’s sleep.

Everett looked up at the dark ceiling, and let out of a slow breath.

“Dr. Rush, wake up,” he said softly. He shook him slightly. “Nickolas. Wake up.”

The man curled into him, and his mouth pressed, wet, thin lips moving against Everett’s throat as he grumbled a protest. 

_“Not yet, please- not yet,”_ Rush mumbled against Everett’s skin, his voice thick with sleep, accent lilting, and Everett felt a spike of _something_ at his sleep thick voice, how good he sounded without the animosity- he reminded himself he was _naked_ , and Rush was stuck to him like a barnacle, knee somewhere very inappropriate. He couldn’t linger like this.

Everett sighed, hand brushing down Rush’s hair, almost in apology – then he rolled them over, harshly, the sudden movement jostling the bed. Rush ended up sprawled underneath him, Everett’s hands braced on either side of his head. The blankets slipped down Everett’s back, and from the warmth of the cocoon, the air felt cool against his bare shoulders.

Rush was blinking dazed below him, the lights in the alcove barely powered on. Blue circuits along the walls that had been dark while Rush slept hummed to life, illuminating the soft look on Rush’s face. He was clearly just barely awake; he blinked slowly up at Everett. His face was relaxed, open, without the worried pinch to his brow that he so often had whenever he looked at Everett, even after all these years.

His soft brown hair was feathered out over the pillows, and Everett’s knees were between Rush’s, the scientist relaxed against him.

_Don’t you fucking start thinking that_ , Everett told himself off, harshly, and jostled the bed harshly, shaking the dreamy look from Rush’s face.

He finished waking up, backing away from Everett on his elbows with a look of alarm.

“Colonel, what are you-” Rush started, fear in his voice.

Everett interrupted. “Rush, what are you doing in my bed?”


	4. walk of shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not the traditional walk of shame for an embarrassed Rush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> total number of chapters has been bumped. Sorry for the delay. I left my window open and my desktop got rained on ._. because I'm not very bright.  
> it's dried out now, so back to the nutvember and other indulgences.

* * *

* * *

There was a frozen moment as Rush looked up at him, a slow flush of humiliated embarrassment crawling across his face as the realization sank in. Everett could see the pieces connecting, his dark eyes darting off, searching the shadows- looking for any hint of why he was _there_.

“This is your bed?” he asked quietly, dazed.

Everett nodded.

“Yeah, Rush. You must have gone into the wrong room.” He offered him the explanation, a peace offering of sorts. He wasn’t in the mood to lord the mistake over him, Everett just wanted Rush _gone_.

Gone so he didn’t have to keep staring down at him, framed perfectly between his arms, his hair feathered _just so_ across the clean linens. Couldn’t help but notice he smelled like clean skin, and fresh laundry; Observations he didn’t want to be making about anyone right now, least of all Rush. The desire to fill his bed, to distract himself from all the intense emotions of their return had been there the last few days, but he had sat down for warm food, or looked at the ocean- other things he had missed, things that didn’t involve fantasizing about sleeping with _his crew_.

Although to be fair, until this moment, Rush hadn’t been a part of those fantasies. But he knew in his gut that he would now; Everett could chase away the thought, lock up the memory, but it was going to haunt him. He knew what Rush looked like laid out in his _bed_. That he would wonder what Rush’s hair smelled like, would catch himself in fantasies where instead of waking him up with a shake, he woke him with slow, sensual touches, and the man in those mental images may have _looked_ like Rush, but Young almost scoffed at the thought.

He sighed, shifting his leg so he could push Rush’s calves out from between his knees with one hand, and gathered the blankets to cover himself pointedly. Rush flinched away from his touch, recoiling against the metal headboard – despite how cold he must be. His skin still felt of ice, and Everett could imagine that his warm palm felt like a furnace against Rush’s skin. Rush’s gaze dropped to the bundle of bedding over Everett’s crotch, and then jumped to his face, skittering away quickly as he crawled further backwards on his elbows, embarrassment making him pale and then flush crimson.

“Colonel, I- I’m sorry,” he whispered. Everett couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen him look so genuinely regretful. “I’ll – I will be more careful, I’ll leave, ah—” He cast around wildly, by now realizing his own state of undress. The lights hummed softly, and Everett winced.

“Please don’t turn the lights on, Rush.”

The humming stopped, and he looked down and away.

“Right. Sorry.”

 _God, he looks so lost_.

This wasn’t really the place to have this conversation, but with Rush the window of vulnerability was usually the only time he would _listen_ to anything Everett had to say. He shuffled his legs so they were cross-legged, covered to the waist with the snowy white duvet, and scratched at his damp hair as he tried to think of a tactful way to phrase the question.

_Fuck it._

“Rush,” he waited until he had his attention, picking up the spare pillow and plopping it in Rush’s lap so he could cover himself. Rush was the only one of them wearing anything close to sleep clothes, and he hardly found his thin chest with its dusting of hair _distracting_ , but it seemed to settle him. He gave the scientist a moment, and then turned his focus back on him, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Are you okay? It’s not like you to – well. I’m not upset, but I’m worried. You aren’t getting enough rest. I don’t think you’re eating enough, either.” He couldn’t quite find it in himself to ask what he meant, but as Rush dropped his gaze – again, he’d done that too often during their brief conversation. The fire seemed to have run out of him, since leaving Destiny.

He didn’t answer immediately, and Everett let the silence settle. Rush fidgeted uncomfortably for a few painfully long moments, mostly shielded by the large pillow; he seemed to have a gift for folding himself up, compacting and making himself even smaller. The bed felt cavernous between them, despite being close enough that their knees nearly touched.

“I’m just tired.” He shook his head, and looked through his shaggy bangs at Everett. There were dark circles like bruises, and an exhaustion that had nothing to do with sleeplessness. Without thin king, Everett reached out, fingers curling on top of Rush’s knee, meaning the gesture to be comforting.

Rush recoiled.

“Sorry.” He nodded. Rush didn’t trust him, why would he find any comfort in what Everett offered him?

~*~

Nickolas ducked his head again in apology as he tugged on his pants, trying not to look at the bed, and the naked colonel sitting on it. the blue light of the room brightened just slightly as he remembered how hard it had been to see Young's face, and then dimmed again as he realized what he was doing. _Fuck!_

His heart was still in his throat. His sleep-hazy mind had blurred the edge of the dream into the first few moments of waking- he wasn't sure which had been reality. When he had woken up he had been warm, tangled in the bed with someone else’s skin pressed against his, and he remembered _dreaming_ of a nose pressed into his neck, of lips against his skin, of curling his arms around strong shoulders and pressing into all that warmth- and the very idea that his traitorous mind brought him _here_ , after that first night and it’s haunting dream - which he pushed away, hard, before the vivid details could begin to surface and make this so much worse for him- filled him simultaneously with a heavy icy dread, and a strange sadness. He rarely dreamed, and it had been so peaceful - in a way reality hadn't been for so long. He would have give anything to linger in those stolen moments for even a few snatches longer. 

He stumbled on his way to the door, struggling to put his shoes on and walk in his haste to leave the room and the humiliation behind him, and the door opened quietly.The Colonel, wisely, did not call goodnight, and when the door shut behind him, he manually locked it. 

_No more uninvited guests for the Colonel._

The corridor was dim, quiet and empty; night time having fallen on the planet.

He’d slept nearly seven hours, wrapped securely in the warm scent of Young – a scent he realized that, without the days old sweat and metallic hints of dried blood, he _liked_. He hadn't slept a full night in _years._ It was another thing he was not going to think about.

Rush scraped his hair away from his face, and reversed course, heading for the mess.

Young was right, he needed to eat more.

 _But after that, I’m going to work until I pass out on the floor_.

Then hopefully the hazy memory of how warm Young’s hands were would fade like the nightmare that it had most _definitely_ been.


	5. Through the wormhole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they finally return to earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm still writing this whenever I'm sad, because it makes me feel a lot better

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He didn’t see Rush again- not in his quarters, or in the halls- for three days. Everett was more than old enough to tell when someone was avoiding him, and out of respect for Dr. Rush, he gave him his space, but on the morning of the fourth day, and order came down the line, and he had to reluctantly break that space.

Hopefully, three days was enough time.

Everett hovered outside the door of the lab, one awkward moment away from wringing his hands, as he waited for Rush to finish with his work – unwilling to interrupt or disturb him. He’d been there an hour already, and his presence was beginning to make people a bit squirrely.

A distinctly exasperated sigh.

“For pity sake, would you just come in?” asked Rush from behind him.

Everett grimaced, turning slowly. _Caught_. Well, not that he was hiding, not really.

“Actually, Dr. Rush, I need you to come with me. We’ve been ordered back to Earth to debrief.”

Now Rush just looked annoyed. He scrapped his long hair back, shrugging dismissively, and began to leave. “I’ll go by stone later. I’m quite busy.”

“We don’t have permission to use the stones on Atlantis. Too high a chance there may be ones in enemy hands.” He found himself falling easily back into their pattern; he wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. Their old pattern had been one of necessity, but it hadn’t been _healthy_.

He wanted to do better.

Everett offered an olive branch.

“Just say no, if you aren’t ready. I won’t let them make you.” He spoke softly, taking a step closer so the offer stayed between them. It was a small comfort, but Rush didn’t step back. He just watched Everett, studying him critically.

“Alright,” he said, finally, crossing his arms slowly. He was still looking at Everett, brow furrowed. “Tell them I’ll be along shortly.”

It wasn’t the answer he had expected, but Everett ducked his head, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“Sure. Dial out is in two hours, 1600, you have some time.”

He left before he could do or say anything to give away his own turbulent thoughts.

~*~

It wasn’t that he had an issue that he had quite literally _slept with_ the Colonel. Or even that it was the _Colonel_ who’s bed he’d woken up in- it was that every night since then, Nicholas had been plagued with dreams of curling up next to someone, of winding his arms around their warmth – and woken in a cold bed, alone. And the contrast left a sick feeling in his stomach that he didn’t like.

He was _used_ to sleeping alone.

It didn’t mean he liked it.

He got cold, when he was tired. Cold enough that his own body didn’t warm the sheets, and he lingered for hours on the edge of sleep, kept awake by the ache of his tired muscles because his bed was too fucking _cold_ for them to relax. Destiny had had nothing in the way of heating pads or hot water bottles, both adequate yet still unsatisfying solutions.

The sensation of Young’s warmth, his solid weight against Nicholas – it haunted him. In his less sane hours, he’d wondered if he could do it again, wander into his rooms – pretend he didn’t know which was his- and climb into Young’s bed. Get a good night’s rest, curled in the warmth of another person.

He didn’t. It was close, and he couldn’t stand to look at Young, or his fragile self control might snap under that _look_ he would give him, that hopeless look of patient confusion. After every damn thing they had done to each other, every line they had crossed—

Rush sighed, and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

He needed to pack. To shower. There wasn’t time for this.

~*~

Camile looked at her watch again.

“Are you sure he’s coming?” she asked, finally.

Everett looked up at her from his seat on the stairs. She rolled her eyes at his silence, but sat down beside him. “They aren’t going to put off the dial-out for him.” She muttered.

Everett snorted a laugh. “Not like you to insult him. Not friends anymore?” he teased, jostling her shoulder with his.

It was Sharon, of course. He knew that, but the friendly conversation worked; Camile relaxed, the tendon that had been standing out vividly in her neck slowly smoothing away, and her shoulders dropping by an inch. She let out a deep breath.

“I haven’t seen her in so long.” She sighed, smiling faintly as she looked at the gate.

“It’s exciting.” He answered simply.

Of Destiny’s command staff, only Camile was being relieved of duty; both he and Rush had no significant ties to Earth, and most of their core staff had sorted themselves out on Destiny. It was a bitter sweet moment, but he was happy for her if this was where they parted ways, he would do so glad. Camile deserve happiness, her and Sharon both.

Commotion down the hall cut off Camile before she could reply, and they both leaned forward to watch as Rush jogged into the room. He braced his hands on his knees, leaning over to catch his breath.

“ _Mah watch is dead_ ,” he growled, in explanation.

His hair was damp, but nearly dry, and he had borrowed clothes from someone on the base- he had sensible expedition pants, in black, and a grey-blue fleecy zipped all the way up to his chin. He waved off a member of the Atlantis personnel, and straightened, walking over to them.

He noticed Everett’s attention, and tugged self consciously at the sleeves of his borrowed jacket. A tablet was under his arm, hugged tight to his ribs.

“I don’t own any clothes.” His expression said he didn’t know why he was explaining.

Everett shrugged. “I know a few places. They’re putting us up on the base, but you are technically off duty.”

Rush did that funny squinting-frown of his, and turned abruptly forward, as the gait began to dial. His shoulders filled with all the tension that had been in Camile’s, but there was no closer waiting for him on the other side of the event horizon. Unsure of why he was driven to, Everett stepped closer.

He kept his eyes fixed on the puddle, as it settled into the gate, but curled his fingers around Rush’s thin hand. Unsurprisingly, it was cold, and Rush flinched at his touch- but to his credit, he covered it well. Everett squeezed his hand, meaning the gesture to be reassuring, and moved to let go – but Rush grabbed him back, his grip tightening almost painfully around Everett’s hand.

In the blue light of the wormhole, he could see the tension in his face.

Everett bumped Camile with his elbow, and held out his hand.

“Together?” he asked, to her surprised face.

Her warm smile made him glad he did. Beside him, Rush still felt like a man walking to the gallows, but he wasn’t trying to break Everett’s hand anymore.

He took a deep breath.

 _Time to go_.

They stepped into the event horizon.


	6. Feeling light headed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rush faints, and Young wears civilian clothes (again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmmm young in jeans.

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Despite what he had built it up to in his head, their arrival back on Earth was mostly quiet. The puddle felt like nothing, although his first breath on the other side was of distinctly drier air, the mellow scent of the ocean replaced with the slightly musty smell of pre-70s era concrete. He had not realized what a mild, pleasant scent the Ancient city had; it was metallic, but very alive. Living, planet air- Destiny had smelt of metal and recycled air. It wasn’t a bad smell, he quite liked the particular way even stargates smelled, metal like Destiny but newer usually-

As he looked around the room, he realized his mind was reeling. Over analyzing, to try to come to terms with something he absolutely was not ready to think about. He took a step forward, propelled by Camile and Young’s hands linked in his own, and his knees felt wobbly. The line of military faces at the bottom of the gate’s ramp seemed very far away. Nicholas took a slow breath through his nose, and let it out through his mouth, but it didn’t help the ringing in his ears.

 _Well, this is very melodramatic_ , he thought to himself. He could feel the faint rushing at him, and there wasn’t anything to do; Time felt off, slow and thick like moving through soup.

He could hear his name being said, but even with the words sounding distant and fuzzy through the ringing in his ears, Nicholas could understand the formality of them. The faces down at the bottom of the ramp were a lot closer, and one had their hand out; he didn’t recognize them.

He tightened his hold on Young’s hand, only to realize what he’d done when the man looked over at him curiously. Everything felt very distant and far away. He felt both cold and hot, and his heart was thundering in his chest; Nicholas turned to look at Colonel Young, and dimly wondered if something had gone wrong with the gate. His legs folded under him caught him by surprise, but the sensation was dimmed, and he felt hands scramble along his clothes and arms to keep him from hitting the ramp.

He was out before he hit the ramp.

He didn’t feel it as Young scooped him up carefully, waving others away- cradling Nicholas with an arm under his shoulder and the other under his knees, holding him close to his body with a carefulness that bordered on tender.

And he definitely didn’t feel it as Young paused to readjust so his head rested against his shoulder, instead of lolling back.

~*~

It had been a dramatic entrance, to say the least. Everett sank down farther in the uncomfortable chair, an icepack on his aching knee as he watched his sleeping… _colleague_? Former enemy?

_Current enemy?_ He snorted at the thought. It wasn’t that bad.

Unbidden, the memory of the doctor, laying dazed beneath him came back. The slow flutter of his long lashes as he looked up at Everett without any trace of animosity or fear. How his long hair, shiny and clean, had looked spread out over his pillow, and the long, bare line of his milky collarbone coupled with the way his throat looked when he tipped his head back just slightly-

Everett hissed as his fingers went lax and the bag of ice fell, bouncing off his foot. It left a cold, slick line down his pant leg.

It also broke the fantasy.

He sighed, and leaned forward, scooping the slightly dirty bag of ice up, and rewrapping it, before plopping it back on his knee.

 _It’s official. I have a problem_.

Rush lay, looking rumpled and unconscious in an unromantic and slightly worrying way, propped up by pillows and with the blankets pulled up. Camile had throw an extra one over his feet, shrugging when Everett looked at her in question. Neither of them knew what to do with themselves; they weren’t going to go forward without Rush. It would be the two of them, debriefing together – but Rush would get ganged up on. Historically, things didn’t go best when he felt cornered, and their over all approach to command structures had changed in the years they’d been away.

Plus, there were things that – for all their benefit- it was better homeworld command not know about.

“I can hear you worrying, Colonel.” Muttered a soft voice from the bed.

Everett looked up, startled from his thoughts once again.

“You’re awake. How are you feeling?” he was thankful his voice sounded more solid than he felt. He had to grip the arm of his chair to hide the way his hand shook, alarmed at how relieved he was to hear hi speak.

The scientist squinted at him, dark circles under his brown eyes. “Foolish.” He muttered.

“Pardon?”

“I feel foolish. Fainting like a schoolgirl.”

Everett relaxed back, chuckling.

“Well, it could have been the lack of sleep, or the dehydration, or the near lethal levels of caffeine in your blood. We’ll never know for certain, but I think you can rule out fainting.”

Rush had the decency to look embarrassed. He dropped his gaze for a moment, then it flicked back up, and Everett could have sworn he saw a smile play around the corners of his lips.

“I missed coffee.” It wasn’t an apology, or an explanation, but it was enough. They both relaxed, the tension in the room flowing away like water. Rush closed his eyes, and his breathing evened out; the heartrate monitor indicated he’d gone back to sleep.

Everett wasn’t sure why, but he lingered. It eased the hard clench in his chest, watching him sleep peacefully, despite the dark circles, and the medical sheets. His hair was still clear, clearer than it had been in years, and it spread over the sheets like soft silk, and he let the moments tick away to the sound of his heart beat, while wishing he was bold enough to stand up, and touch it.

~*~

Two days passed before they let him out of medical observation. He wasn’t allowed to have anything but decaf coffee until his body readjusted to stimulants. Since all three of them were technically on leave time, there wasn’t much anyone could do about Nicholas’s terrible sleeping and eating habits, but after loosing so much of their short trip to medical issues, he had made a promise to himself to make a better attempt.

They weren’t living in space anymore with limited supplies. He could afford to stop, take breaks, eat and sleep regularly. The entire purpose of him being here was to try to give them the information they would need to recruit people for the Destiny Mission who would be _best_ suited for it, so he wouldn’t be working himself to death trying to stay ahead of everything.

After two days of IV fluids and forced rest, he _did_ feel better. The exhaustion that seemed to linger in his bones wasn’t quite gone, but some real sunlight would solve that.

Nickolas waited by the elevator to ground level, waiting on his military escort.

“Ready to go?”

Nicholas turned.

Colonel Young stood behind him, two laminated security badges on lanyards dangling from one hand.

That wasn’t what had caught Nicholas’s eyes’ the Colonel was in civvy’s. Tight, blue civilian denim jeans, with another t shirt on. This time, under an open, worn in leather jacket. He was acutely aware that he was staring.

Young just grinned at him, wide and boyish, without any of his usual rancor.

“They said you needed a military escort, and I needed some fresh air. Two birds, and all that.”


	7. alone time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everett takes Rush shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops, uploaded half the wrong chapter earlier, sorry about that. things have been a bit nuts.

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He realized he had been staring in silence. Young’s smile was beginning to falter.

Nicholas ducked his head, scraping his hand through his hair. “Sure. Sounds great.” He said shortly, stepping into the elevator before Young could react; the Colonel had to dart in after him, but when Nicholas snuck a look out of the corner of his eye, he seemed pleased. There was a man in the corner in uniform, and he pressed the button for them; it left Nicholas with nothing to do but shove his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker and keep his head down, and wonder why his ears were burning.

It wasn’t like he _liked_ Young, they weren’t friends.

Young, of course, did not allow him the dignity of silence as he sorted out the swamp of his own emotions; he cleared his throat awkwardly, rocking back on his heels as the elevator crept towards the surface.

“I see they found you new glasses. They look good.” He smiled at Nicholas, and he touched the arm of the new pair self consciously, brushing his hair back from his face.

“They’re my spare pair, they were in my things here at the SGC. My prescription is slightly out of date, but I can make do.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling the Colonel this. It wasn’t relevant – this entire scenario felt outlandish, like he was still asleep in medical, dreaming of an afternoon shopping trip with _Everett Young_ of all people.

Young hummed thoughtfully, ignorant to his distress. “Why don’t we nip into a glasses store, see if you can get a new set or three lined up for your return to Atlantis? Between that and clothes shopping, it will probably be a full day.”

Nicholas frowned, not sure what to do with this odd gesture. “Don’t you have things you want to do?”

Young shrugged. “I could do with a new prescription myself. And maybe some updated civilian clothes.” He said simply, and that was that. Young turned back to face the doors, his hands in his pockets of those ridiculous blue jeans, and let Nicholas to his churning thoughts for the last thirty seconds.

They passed through check points and security gates in a haze, falling into old patterns. It was familiar, and grounding, and he was deeply thankful for its tedium in the middle of all these strange emotions; his hands kept itching, and he said it was the perfume in the soap, but it was the almost tactile curiosity that struck him ever time he glanced over and the florescent lighting was catching on Young’s curl’s _just so_.

It was a bizarre impulse, and he wasn’t comfortable with it.

Nicholas dug his nails into his palm, nodding absently at a question, and followed Young out into the late morning sunlight. The parking lot was abuzz with people, most in uniform. No one paid them any mind as they made their way to the back lot, Young flipping the keys idly as he walked.

He had less of a limp on Earth then he had had on Atlantis, Nicholas noted. The knee brace strapped to the outside of his jeans was helping.

The jeep sat, innocuous, in the parking lot.

There had been another thing Nicholas hadn’t considered, when he had agreed to let Young be his military escort.

Alone.

With Young.

He drifted to a stop in the middle of the live lane, and flinched sideways when an on-coming truck honked at him. Young reached back and grabbed him by the arm, tugging him off to the side.

“Easy there. Take a second to get used to the busyness, Rush. It’s been a while since you’ve been back to Earth.” He said softly, and now both of Young’s hands were on his arms, holding him carefully as Nicholas took a deep, calming breath in an attempt to slow his racing heart. He avoided looking at the Colonel, looking around them instead.

Followed the cracks in the road top with his eyes.

The wind played against his skin, and he took another deep breath.

 _Fuck, what is that_?

“…Are you wearing cologne?”

Young laughed.

“No, it’s soap. You just aren’t used to me smelling nice.” He leaned in suddenly, and his nose pressed into the crown of Nicholas’s head- nestled in his hair, and Nicholas stiffened in his grip- and Young took a deep, showy sniff. He leaned away again, grinning down at Nicholas, seemingly unaware of how flustered he’d made him.

“You don’t smell half bad yourself, Dr. Rush. Shampoo suites you.”

 _Oh, this is going to be a mistake_.

~*~

 _That was a mistake_.

Everett used the handle above the door to pull himself up into the driver’s seat of the jeep, trying to look as calm and relaxed as he could. He shouldn’t have touched Rush- he could still feel the way his thin arms tensed into rigid resistance when he leaned in. The soft brush of his hair against Everett’s face, something he’d been dreaming about all week- he had been caught up in the moment, skin buzzing with _real earth sunshine_ , the sound of people bustling about their day all around him, and he’d been thoughtless, reckless. Crossed a boundary that he _knew_ was inappropriate; they didn’t touch each other.

It was something that had remained a very steady constant over the last few years.

Because Everett had started the Destiny mission by touching Rush in anger, and it had set a dangerous path for them. One that had nearly gotten them both killed. He twisted the key in the ignition, and let the rumble of the engine fill his body.

 _Wait a second_.

That wasn’t strictly true anymore, was it?

He’d been touching Rush _a lot_ this last week, and none of it had been in anger. And Rush had been letting him. He brushed shoulders, touched his arm. Held his hand through the wormhole. It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement, but until now, Everett would have said they were making progress.

He cleared his throat, reaching for the radio, but paused. “Any preference?”

Rush shot him a quick look; his face was tight, his arms crossed defensively over his chest, but he didn’t duck Everett’s questioning look. “Ah, the news. I’d like to know what’s going on.”

He flipped the radio to AM, and twisted the dial until a crisp voice came over the radio waves.

Everett pretended not to notice that Rush turned the volume up, as he twisted in his seat to back up. They could do this; they could have a peaceful day.

Rush startled him by speaking up, shortly after they’d left the base.

“I’d like to leave the glasses for last, in case something comes up. I don’t want to keep wearing borrowed clothes.” he made a soft sound, like a smothered laugh. “People seem to be enjoying it too much. I’m very certain this is a woman’s blouse.”

He smirked, but kept his eyes where they were going. He was driving on a renewed license, although he wasn’t sure how that was pulled off, he wasn’t about to ask questions; unlike a lot of people, Everett had enjoyed driving on his stone visits to earth. It still wasn’t enough practise to make up for the fast-moving traffic, and he was starting to feel a bit tense by the time they pulled into the parking lot of the local mall.

From the way Rush was eyeing the mall, a decent walk away, he hadn’t done as good a job as he’d hoped in hiding his discomfort.

“Probably a wise idea. At least over here no one is likely to park beside us.” Rush dragged the lanyard over his head, shutting it away in the centre console, before stepping out into the arm sun. He took a moment, turning his face up to the sky, eyes closed. The breeze fluttered his hair, and it caught the sunlight.

He looked lovely. Relaxed. Almost happy.

Everett froze, hand on the door. He didn't move, for fear of breaking the moment.

_Oh man, I am in trouble._


End file.
